Oh, The World
by Daoiki
Summary: My series of genderbended couples, fist being Fem!ItalyxGermany, next chap being USxfem!UK. So, yeah...please read? Might have some suggestivesness because of Prussia. Vote for next couple at the end of chap. 2!
1. GermanyxFem Italy

_(Part One of the APH-Gender Fic Series) Slight OOC , and definitely AU. Written while Glee music was playing in the background, because Kurt has got some ANGST to inspire the hell outta me…So, I caught the gender bend bug, and I've got it bad. When you hear Kurt singing "A House is not a Home"…you'll understand—because the USUK fic is SO gonna happen. Rated about, K+—T, most likely leaning towards T because of some suggestiveness. ANYWAYS, enjoy some angstyish-fluff Fem!ItalyxGermany, you angst whores! BY THE EFFING WAY, I just realized this is probably indirectly my first strait Hetalia couple (; A ;) I SUCK SO BAD._

He didn't know exactly when it started, where the two of them met, and even _how_ in the world he came to be lying next to the slumbering Italian woman. As he rolled over, he knew immediately that his late night visitor had come home with him, the bathroom light on with the door cracked; the other side of his blanket lifted and mussed up. He heard the shower running faintly, a soft Italian song gliding melancholically over his ears.

Ludwig remembered wavy auburn hair, chocolate eyes, and the smell of flowers on her lightly tanned skin. He remembered her soft voice murmuring "Germany" while lithe fingers combed through his blonde hair, and that same voice sighing and mewling with each touch he gave her. His head hurt when he thought of her crazy sister, but a smile was brought to his face when he recalled her warm, summery smile; memories of their days and nights together welling in his mind.

And when they came together like two lost puzzle pieces, it was hard not to cry out and wake up the entire apartment complex. As far as his modesty went at that moment, it was clean and spotless compared to the nights he couldn't sleep because of the slamming of his brother's headboard on the bordering wall when he brought over his countless lady (and sometimes male) friends to roll around the bed sheets with.

The water running in the bathroom shut off suddenly, bringing him out of his reverie, and he heard the singing slowly stop, until it was eerily quiet…empty and hollow on his ears.

"Ludwig..? Are you…are you awake?" he heard a soft voice murmur from the restroom; a towel clad Italian stepping quietly out into the chilly bedroom. "Feliciana..?" he sat up, rolling his shoulders, looking in her direction. She gingerly walked towards him, sitting on the edge of his bed, looking back at him with dewy eyes. He reached out for her shoulder, confusion written on his face, tears breaking and rolling down her cheeks.

"D-don't hate me, okay? D-don't be m-mad, okay..?" she hiccupped, turning towards him, holding his hand desperately. Her eyes were wide and fearful, filled with anxiety. Gently, he pulled her to him, feeling her instantly curl to his chest, her often perky cowlick even drooping slightly.

Ludwig wiped her tears away, pressing his lips to her forehead, silently beckoning her to tell him. "Feliciana, please…I won't be mad, and I can't hate you, not for a second." He murmured against her hairline, cold locks clinging to her face. "P-promise me..?" she asked, leaning her face against the hand that gently cupped her cheek.

He nodded his head, pulling her delicately onto his lap, wrapping her in warm blankets, soothingly rubbing clammy skin.

More tears streamed down her cheeks, her arms wrapping around his neck. "I…I'm…" she was cut off by a sob. Immediately, she was crushed to a familiar chest, calming sounds and words being murmured to her. He stroked her hair, hearing her mumble into his chest.

He lifted her chin, looking into teary doe eyes, "…_pregnant_." She finished murmuring, looking away in shame. His eyes widened, mouth opening and closing repeatedly, gripping around for words. "Really..? Feli, this is…" he started, being interjected by her, "_Terrible_, I know, I'm so sorry..!" she sobbed out, clinging to him.

"You mean _wonderful_…this is wonderful, Feli…" he murmured happily, pulling her tightly to his chest, her crying ceasing, a surprised face turning up to him. "Y-you…really think so..?" she gasped, sitting up and holding his face in her hands. He nodded his head, pulling her close, kissing her neck.

The smile that broke across her face could rival that of the sun, her soft laugh happy and carefree as sweet tears welled in her eyes. She leaned against him, burying her face into his neck. "I...I'm so happy..! I thought that you would be mad, I was so scared…" she said happily, her voice muffled by his black t-shirt.

He cradled her gently against him, laughing at her excited gushes over names and genders—a quiet smile gracing her features as she was rocked back and forth by the blonde German.

"You know, Ludwig…I think this might be a…really good thing…" she muttered sleepily, her eyes heavy and tired, until she fell asleep in her lovers arms, being tucked in by Ludwig—who, for once, decided sleeping in wouldn't be too bad at the moment.

_Shitty ending is shitty, but that's beside the point. Tell me what you think, because every time you review, I'll kick Kaiba in the balls. Anyways, the next couple will be AmericaxFem!England because I think the name Ana has a ring to it and they had 89% compatibility on my iTouch's Love Calc o.o __(lame) HENAYWAYS, the chapter next chapter will be put up…whenever, and after that, you guys will vote via review for the next three couple, and the choices will be posted at the end of chappie two._


	2. AmericaxFem UK EDIT

_And, welcome to chapter two…*yawns* you're so lucky I love you all, because I'm writing after a VERY long school day/math test…so be thankful. As I was replying to a review, I remembered saying that USUK argument fics are the hottest…and when they argue, even over nonsensical things, it's still effing hawt. Anyways, enjoy this agitated fic, because I really need the views…or I think I'll just die (; x ;)**(**EDIT Okay, I edited this by filling it in...and making Ana a little LESS British ((ikr xD)) so, hopefully, this one is easier to read |D either way, I'm basically redoing the whole story, because I was young when I wrote this, and I find it a little bland :D ***EDIT2 It. Still. Sucks. Damn eeeeet. Added more fluff, because it's reather rushed, if you ask me.)**_

A slam was heard above on the second floor of a little British house, on a little British street, somewhere obviously in Britain; soon, yelling and cursing filled the small room from which the racket generated from, a deeper voice rumbling soothingly over vehement shrieking from a young woman.

"And you have the _nerve _to try and tell me that I have no _right _to be bloody pissed off with your sorry excuses! I think I ought to be, seeing that I saw you getting nice and comfy with that bloody tart again!" a small blonde pig-tailed girl ranted, slapping the taller mans hands away when he tried to pull her close and sooth that seething face.

Angrily, she pushed him away, sniveling sulkily with a dark glare. Ana stomped over to the mirror in the corner of she and Alfred's bedroom, yanking her hair down out of its pigtails and violently running a brush through it, down right snarling when the hulking American came to close. Slowly, his cheeks flamed, and he backed off, clenching his teeth and angrily thudding his fist into their mattress. Abruptly, Ana shot off the bench in front of the mirror, opening her mouth to undoubtedly scold him.

Before a word could pass her pink little mouth, he was advancing towards her angrily. "Damn it Ana, for the last time, I wasn't screwing around!" the tall blonde shouted, fed up with being yelled at and brushed off, stopping just in front of her. He saw Ana's taken aback face, eyes wide at his outburst. He desperately reached out for her, his eyes pained, sullen with grief. Suddenly, the crisp sound of a slap resounded around the room, the crickets outside even stopping their drone for but a moment.

The blonde man lifted a hand to his cheek, astonished at the small woman in front of him. "Don't…just don't…" she rasped softly, her voice hoarse from too much yelling, backing away, a hand over the wrist he grabbed desperately. "Don't touch me, Alfred, with the hands that probably have been on _her_." She whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Ana…come here. I didn't do anything—you know that Fran and I only _joke _with each other! It's harmless," he murmured to her, outstretching his arms as he walked slowly towards her.

"Rubbish. Absolute _rubbish_; do you honestly think I'd be that bloody _stupid_!" she hissed, shoving his chest, cornering him against a wall. "Sex with another woman isn't a joke, you American dolt, and don't act like I don't know what you're doing behind closed doors! I just know that you're...you're..." she painfully dropped the statement, eyes welled high with tears. "Ana, it's nothing like that, you know that I wouldn't dare cheat on you—how could you even thinkthat?" he gasped, his cheeks turning red with indignation.

She growled low in her throat, brows knit low over her eyes, a rare, dangerous glint reflecting in the beautiful peridot orbs. "I saw you chat up with that—that tart! It was a little dodgy, if you ask me, Alfred—" she was cut off quickly, with lips pressed against hers, strong arms wrapping around her, folding her slight body against his larger frame.

She desperately struggled, clawed at his back and punching halfheartedly at his chest, but slowly melted against him, a soft keening noise passing her lips when he released her. Gently, he wiped away tears as she clung to him, little hiccups and sobs heard as he cradled her. He held her gently, kissing away her tears, her hands desperately clenching and unclenching his shirt, quiet crying the only remnants of her stormy anger.

But, he held her through it, combing fingers through her hair and kissing her lips endlessly, and gently tugging her towards the bed situated snugly against the wall.

And, on the second floor of a little British house, on a little British street, somewhere obviously in Britain...the entire house was finally quiet. But, the tiniest sound was heard, and the softest of words were spoken...

"Alfred...don't let go..."

_**(**Well, hopefully it's easier on the eyes~ hey, guys, PM me, I need ideas = A =) **Okay, I just got back from IKEA, and I felt compelled to remember an IKEA centered fic with Su-san…and Finny…doing things. Anywho, it's finally time to vote on the next couple! *presses button and clapping erupts from speakers* okay, so our three couples aaaaaareeee—_

_FrancexFem!Canada_

_SpainxFem!Romano_

_RussiaxFem!China_

So, submit reviews for your favorite couple. Voting ends on Wednesday, which means you have five days, guys. So, you vote it, we rape it :D


	3. RussiaxFem China vote at the end

_Okay…the votes have been tallied and…RusChina won. YAY, BENDED YAO :D When it comes to Yao-Yao's bended name, it'll stay Yao :/ I dunno, I guess I'm a purist. So, I thought I'd take a sadistic/boo-hoo-crai-crai twist (hell, people know me well enough) for the angst whores. Of course, what's a fic with Russia without angst, tears, and China? Well, it wouldn't have Russia in it then, now would it? So, you'll see the couple Spamano as the reoccurring voting couple, because it tied with the not-so-popular-apparently Franada. READ THE STORY ALREADY, DAMMIT._

Bruising kisses scaled down her throat, cold, hard lips nipping and suppressing the small Chinese woman writhing in a tall Russian's arms. Sighs passed her lips, along with a few muttered curses and scolding words for his roughness. The Russian smirked, pulling her tight against his chest, running his fingers across silk fabric.

It was wrong, wasn't it? She always turned to him, every time, seeking a comfort only Ivan could give. He was younger than her, her age almost double to his…but, with those skilled hands, scorching lips, and soaring height, it really made one wonder if he was lying about the age on his license…it made her silent in contemplation, her eyes distant.

He brought her chin to his hands, leveling their gaze, deceivingly pure eyes scanning her features. "_Jao_…what's wrong, hmm..?" he murmured to her, pressing lips to her temple, the bafflingly gentle side of the tall Russian smoothing his features. He cupped her cheek, realization hitting him like a freight train.

"This is wrong…so wrong…" Yao muttered, pristine tears pooling in her eyes and chest. His eyes widened, wildly searching her face for the familiar affection and pleasure that clouded her vision. The crestfallen look on her face, though, only gave way to pain, tears running down her cheeks like little tracks.

Slowly, her eyes locked with his, and he felt her wrap arms around his neck, sobbing into his chest, the sound of crying so familiar, yet so foreign to his ears…all he could do was hush her, cradle her to his chest, say "everything is alright", stroke her hair, and run through a list of what might be able to comfort her in this cold place—in his cold arms.

"No…no Ivan…I-I'm fine, alright? I'm fine…everything's okay…" Yao choked out, broken sobs slowly turning into sniffles and hiccups, feeling her clothing being shed, stormy eyes understanding what he can do, hands wandering aimlessly to find her a source of comfort.

Slowly but surely, hips connected, gasps for air filled the room, a gentle rocking was heard, and soon the crying was gone, only the gentle drip of rain outside and the blissful cries now leading them.

Even if it's wrong…he could make it so right.

_You guys must really hate me right now…and you rightfully should. REALLY behind on the deadline (; A;) don'tkillmeplease. Reviews are nice, and remember to vote you guys! Voting ends 6/01/10 because I need more time for votes. Couples are:_

Fem!RomanoxSpain

Fem!JapanxGreece

Fem!KoreaxChina (For **A Bleach-Drinking Hetalian**)


	4. SpainxFem Romano vote at end

_YAY! SPAMANO WON! I CAN ACTUALLY WRITE THIS! Of course PMS!Romano…because, when is he just not having his man-period..? Though…he's a girl now…hmmm. ANYWAYS! Enjoy!_

Really, it was no secret that the stupid Spaniard loved his young Italian girlfriend. And really, by _far_, it was know that she could become a fire breathing bitch if any other woman so much as even _thought _of thinking of thinking of going out with Spain. Now, this couldn't possibly make sense, you say. I see you've never witnessed the pure 24-hour PMS cycle known as Romana.

She could be a bitch, a lover, a great cook, a _shitty_ cook, cute-bruiser, _really_-beat-your-ass bruiser, or even your moms two-sided lesbian girlfriend. _If_ she even wanted to swing that way and leave her moron Spain-bastard unguarded for any Prussian and or French woman to rape. Even though she was a chick, she was a tough chick-with-a-dick, with more testosterone than you to boot.

Though, she had cracks in her armor. She wanted to be good for Antonio…but could she..?

(. ~. )

Like _any_ other day in the Spanish man Antonio's household, a line was crossed, someone got pissed off, and Romana had most definitely locked herself in _his_ room, of all places.

"Roma..? Come on, open the dooooor!" the Spanish man whined, his eyes pleading to the large, heavy, and _locked_ door. A mumbled response was heard on the other side, but obviously she felt like being difficult today.

Antonio sought for a remedy of the problem, but alas, he resulted to doing what Tia (crazy little albino) taught him to do best. And no, it was not getting ass.

It was _picking locks_.

One bobby pin and a string of curse words later, he was inching the door open very slowly, alert for possibly lethal flying objects. He poked his head into the doorway, immediately getting a pillow to his face, a tiny "Ow!" squealing past the fluffy nuisance.

As soon as the pillow fell to the floor, he felt a little twitch in his brain. Not just any twitch, but a twitch of conquistador-ness proportions twich. In a matter of seconds, the Spanish man had the small Italian pinned to the bed beneath him, his eyes meeting a tear streaked face. Immediately he forgot why in the hell he was holding down his hurt little Romana to the bed in the first place. Gently, he released her hands, feeling her pissed glare bore into his skull as she scrambled back.

He reached out and cupped her cheek, scanning her eyes, finding his lips unknowingly landing on hers, searching for what he could have possibly done to make her mad. He heard a hiccup, and he held her as the floodgates opened, angry curses filling the small guest room, and whimpers slipping past her lips. He softly stroked her hair, hushing her, holding her close.

"Romana…can you please tell me what's wrong..?" he gently murmured to her, his lips pressing to her temple. "You wanna know what's _wrong_! Fuck, I'll tell you what's _wrong_!" she blew up. She shot up, sitting angrily on his bed.

"That German _fucker_ got my fucking sister pregnant, that potato stuffing asshole! He deserves to _die_!" she growled at the end, her eyes practically letting you into her head where she was, undoubtedly, castrating the poor man.

At first, he gawked. Then, unknowingly, he chuckled, which evolved to all-out guffawing. Romana's eye twitched.

Once.

_Twice_.

No one will _ever_ find his body.

Throughout the night, all they could hear was pathetic crying from the Spaniard—

"R-Romana! Untie me from the bed, you terrible, _terrible_ tease!"

_*Makes Happy Face* God, you guys could tell I was peppy, huh? Well, I fucking love this couple that's why :D Returning couple from second place is GreecexFem!Japan, so give em' a round of applause *yaaaaaay* couples for Chap. 5 are-_

_GreecexFem!Japan (ON EDGE OF SEAT)_

_SwedenxFem!Finland (NO. FUCKING. CLUE. WHAT. TO. WRITE. D:)_

_DenmarkxFem!Norway (SO EXCITED :D)_


	5. GreecexFem Japan vote at the end EDIT

Winning couple is…GreecexFem!Japan~! BECAUSE THE MORNING AFTER PARTAY IS GREAT! Yes, I think you can tell how ENTHUSIASTIC I am :3 I'm keeping Kiku's name the same because…well, it iss a GIRLS name. Point made, no arguments that I'm lazy, kthx WARNING: NEKKED P33PL, NOTHING EXPLICIT, NO PLOT. (**EDIT: Much needed edits added. See if you can catch them all trolololo)

Kiku didn't know how…she didn't know why…and _gods forbid _she knew what actually happened last night. From what she remembered, it was relatively innocent. She met a young man while at a party with her two closest friends from her college days, an airheaded Italian and her German boyfriend, and he started a bit of small-talk. They went on like this, and he ordered the two of them a drink at the clubs bar…and she went blank. No matter how hard she tried…she could not remember whatever the hell went down.

Slowly, she was roused out of an alcohol induced sleep, a bright light coming down from an over-head skylight situated directly above her…in the most unpleasant of ways. Kiku made a soft sound of discomfort, a heavy wait on her chest moving for a bit, settling in basically the same, uncomfortable place. As she slowly became more and more conscious, she became more and more aware that something—or someone—was breathing slowly on her neck.

Like someone poured cold water on her, her eyes snapped open, one eye twitching. She made a soft squeak, twisting around for a second, whimpering when the heavy lump wrapped it's obviously muscular arms around her impossibly small frame. She moved around her legs, registering the feel of cotton on an obviously uncovered lower body, the heavy lump on her grumbling something in its sleep, situated directly between her legs…actually, if she craned her neck, she realized that she was definitely naked. In a _bed_. In a _foreign room_. In _some bodies arms_—and no, she was _not _freaking out, she's just entirely peachy because, _obviously _this happens _every _morning for her.

Least to say, she poked a mass of silky, curly nutmeg hair, a soft rumble coming from deep in the things throat. She scooted back a bit, almost shrieking when, now identified as a young male, nuzzled between to (very tiny) breasts. Her first instinct, the one she acted upon, was to slap the fucking pervert in the face. She's from Japan, where groping on trains is a common occurrence, and women knowing how to castrate a man on a subway was twice as common.

As quickly as her hand connected with his face, she heard a surprised grunt as the man scrambled on top of her, making the situation even more uncomfortable as the begging. Soon he was off of her, which gave her the opportunity to scramble up the bed, almost kneeing the already hurt man in the face in the process. Rubbing his cheek, languid, attractive emeralds met onyx orbs. She swallowed, and watched as he sat up, covering her already nude body with the sheets, trying to at least collect the barest shreds of modesty she had left.

He cocked his head to the side, and in a very sleep deprived voice asked her the most idiotic question ever articulated in the English language: "Did I do something wrong..?" he murmured, he voice laden with sleepiness, eyelids lowered in an oddly cute but sensual way. Quietly, her head shot back, eyes widened to the size of saucers. She gaped, quickly shutting it, her eyes wide and frantic. Somehow, this man was familiar, it was in his eyes, but her memory was far too foggy to even attempt to place his features to a name. Slowly, she relaxed, her eyes softening gently, feeling oddly familiar and a tad bit of remorse for slapping the man with pure Japanese-woman force.

She reached out and placed a hand on his now only pinkish cheek, her fingers recoiling slightly when he flinshed. "U-uhm...no…no, I don't think you did something wrong…well…I meant…that is…" she awkwardly continued rambling, unaware that the man in front of her was pulling her closer until she was situated directly in his lap, the rumbling of his chest as he spoke to her startling her out of her now nonsensical mutters and self conducted conversations. "I can't believe you've forgotton...do you remember my name?"

"N-no..?" she answered to the smooth, tanned chest against her cheek. She heard a soft murmur of "…is'fine with me, you'll remember...later…" before she was lightly pushed onto the fluffy mattress, soft snoring heard against her chest, the man now entirely passed out on top of her. She squeaked, still a rumpled mess, gasped pleads for a shower bubbling past her lips.

Hell, she may not remember, but maybe waking up is the best part of the party.

_**(**I WANTED TO EDIT THIS xD plus, I got five messages telling Greece's eyes were green, but I accidently pulled a FanFic dye job and that Kiku was acting like a retarded fish when she found a NAKED MAN on top of her = v =;; whoops~)** Fail chapter is fail :( please, someone throw Lovi at me, I need the criticism…you guys are so AWESOME. Thanks for the support, so let's get on with this story and leave my laziness behind! Returning couple is SuFin, ya'll (LAWL, Paula DEAN XDDD)_

_SwedenxFem!Finland_

_AustriaxFem!Prussia (the ONLY time Austria will top Gilbert in his entire lifetime :3)_

_LithuaniaxFem!Poland (WHAT WILL I NAME FELIKS THO! HE ALREADY IS A GIRL DDDDDX IF YOUR VOTING FOR THESE TWO, ADD A NAME SUGGESTION D:)_

Love you ALL :D


	6. AustriaxFem Prussia vote and end TWIST

_It's late, stop leaving hate mail in my inbox already…jealous!Prussia is…what he already is -_- well, I'm writing this at 12:58 on a Saturday, as I did for Giripan, and hopefully it won't suck ass like it (- w -)/ GOOOO~! And, by the way, don't call me sexist because of this chapter, because I'M a LADY!_

Usually, she didn't go this far, and Tia never said anything about his past relationships, but she did—and damn, did he ever regret telling her about those said past flings. But hey, wouldn't you tell a hot German chick if she had a hand on your—uhm…never mind…

Least to say, the stubborn albino woman had him pinned between the wall of her office and ridiculously terrifying crimson eyes, her laugh soft and mischievous as she whispered seductive words into his ear at such a low octave that _God_ doesn't even want to know.

Well, he probably does...I mean, damn, the woman can _talk_ like she's the _human embodiment_ of sex. Which she probably is—you can't get become a CEO with just hard work if you're Tia. Though, knowing her, she probably did just that combined with her epic charisma out of spite.

Anyhow, the woman was by far acting far too assertive for her own well being, and men should never be pinned by their girlfriends—it was just going against the laws of masculinity. Either way, the woman was plotting something; it was obvious with the lurking deviousness in her crimson eyes…

The soft kisses she was placing on his jaw line was intoxicating, and her soft fingers trailed down to his tie, pulling it loose with the expertise only she could posses. A shaky sigh left his lips as she ran her lips over his, a devilish grin gracing impossibly coy features. He brought his hands from his shoulders to wrap around her waist, knowing the question coming next—

"So…_Roderich_…tell me about this Elizaveta bitch…" she murmured against his now exposed collar bone, her tongue peaking out to swipe against long since memorized sensitive spots. Immediately, in his opinion, the mood was broken. She was no longer alluring when she said this, just being…well, just being Tia.

A frustrated sigh left his lips as he tipped her head up, her confused eyes gently slipping closed when he layered his lips over hers. She whined when he pulled away, "Elizaveta was an old…acquaintance of mine—" he gently stroked her hair from the sound of indignation she made, "But, we've long since stopped depending on each other for…obvious reasons." He articulated slowly, waiting for the ever present slap to the face.

"Then _why the fuck _did she come at me with a goddamned _frying pan_ when I entered your house!" She snapped, seemingly forgetting about the position the two held at the moment, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Is she your staler ex-girlfriend! I mean, what the fuck, she may have been here first, but this is my territory now!" she growled, nipping his neck to punctuate her statement. He hissed at the pleasurable feeling, but bit her back for good measure. "Roddy…tell her to beat it, before _I do it for you_." She growled against the front of his throat, something dangerous lurking in her eyes.

He bit back a sigh—"Antonia Beilschmidt, there is no logical reason for you to depend on your Spanish friend's mafia-linked girlfriend." He said softly, brushing bangs out of her eyes. She grumbled something and pushed off of him, smashing the ringing phone on her desk in the process of seating herself. She pouted while mock-glaring at him. He fixed his shirt to the best of his abilities, and straightened his hair, turning around and leaving her office, a slight nagging feeling in the back of his head.

Later that day, after getting many stares from his co workers when he returned from his lunch break, he saw his smashed computer with a single, pale blue tie on the fizzing remnants with a noit reading—

"PRISSY BASTARD, YOU FORGOT THIS IN MY OFFICE. PS—CALLED ELIZAVETA, SHE'S A FUCKING WHORE-BAG :( -LOVE, TIA"

He felt his eye start twitching as he slowly crushed the letter in his hands, picking up the tie and heading to the elevator. Oh, she'll pay. She'll pay _indeed_.

_*evil chuckle* so, uhhh…yeah XD please don't hate me for the late updates ; A ; by muse is a whore right now! And, believe me, I don't dislike Hungary D: ILU, ELIZAVETA BBY btw, changing my standards this time. Trying out three NEW couples instead of repeating the one in second place, and repeating the couples from past chapters! So, the couple's areeeee—_

_FrancexFem!Canada (look familiar..?)_

_LithuaniaxFem!Poland (I HAVE A REALLY GOOD OUTLINE FOR THIS :DDDD)_

_Man!BelarusxRussia crackfic yaoi option :D (I'm sorry, but for some people who've been following my TM KNOW who you are, and know you suggested it XD)_


	7. FrancexFem Canada EDIT  Final Goodbye

_So, I changed my pen name and whatnot. Well, aside from being overworked with school and everything, I've been on an editing spree for the past few chapters of this poor excuse of a story.. If you feel another chapter should be changed, PM me and I'll add and square it away :D okay, on with the chappie~ (totally forgot the couple that won...months ago.) I'll be honest—because of my laziness, I've decided to just take what I see, and I saw FrancexFem!Canada...those of you who first read it and have been following so very dutifully...don't kill me please ;w; GO! **(Edited this because of grammar stuff that was bugging me...and I probably will continue editing because, well, I'm OCD like that.)**  
__

Francis was a man of many talents, one who could charm any woman who crossed his path and get them into his bed before they even exchanged names. In other words, he was no better than a playboy who had a one track mind of sex, alcohol, and a host of things that should never be named aloud for the sake of censorship.

His life was filled with women who came and went, sensual curves traipsing in and out of his life and out his grand front door, as easily replaced as the first. It was a dirty habit, holding parties and kissing pretty women all night long, waking up to either an empty bed or cries for him to take responsibility. Riches and women, booze and sex, nothing satisfied him. He found himself lying awake, itching for the woman of the night to kiss away his worries and hold him like she meant it, like she cared.

He found himself loathing what he was, what he became. The Francis that outsiders knew was a confident, wealthy, elegant man who lived up to others expectations and more. He was gently encouraging when he was wearing that attitude, and a teasing lover of cat and mouse, prodding at the prey he wanted to play most with and always getting what he wanted. And tonight, tonight was just like every other night, with the moon hanging high and a live quartet gently soothing him into a state of contentment.

The various women at the party thought he wasn't himself, and the men just assured them that maybe he was settling down a bit from his notorious libido, probably trying to keep the gorgeous ladies to themselves. Tonight, in his overly grandiose home with it's luscious gardens and overly decorated rooms, he actually kept his hands to himself, waving off his good friend Alfred when he got a little too curious about the Frenchman's moody attitude. He was just not himself, not as social as he's always been.

Then...he saw her. He never could find out what happened that night, but his heart stopped dead in his chest, swelling and beating so fast he'd thought he had a heart attack. A small, blonde girl who looked so lost and forlorn amongst the huge throngs of people, nervously looking about her like a cornered animal would.

Francis found himself hurrying towards her, his short ponytail swishing against the nape of his neck as he hurried past smiling guests. Finally, after pushing between a very drunk Japanese woman and tipsy Greek, he found himself cupping the shoulder of a positively adorable bespectacled girl, soothing her with his gentle words, coaxing her into conversation and leading her to a seat. He was absolutely enchanted, enraptured in her soft voice and shy violet eyes, lying his hand across hers and showing a genuine curiosity for the first time in a very, _very_ long time.

He discovered her name was Matilda and she was Canadian and loved stuffed animals despite her age. She never drank a drop of alcohol since she was fifteen because she became violently ill after being dared to take a shot of whiskey, has a small white dog who's the spitting image of the sweetest baby polar bear, and doesn't like huge gatherings of people. According to her mumbling, she only came because her stepbrother Alfred (how the two extremely differing people could be related, he couldn't even fathom) begged her to come with him and Anna.

His hand brushed against her cheek, and he knew that she would be the death of him, his downfall. This beautiful, gentle, soft-spoken girl was leaning towards him, and he kissed her with such tender care that he never knew that their lips had met until she pulled away. He was so broken because of that kiss, wanting so much more of her—her voice, her scent, her eyes, he wanted to know everything about her, know what made this beautiful creature any less his.

And slowly but surely, he felt himself falling for her. He courted her, he kissed her until they couldn't breathe, he lived the life of a lover but fell into it's step with a surprisingly unpracticed unsureness.

It started small with his courtship, from taking her to uncomfortably expensive restaurants to small strolls, but he took her to the bakeries she so very much loved, sweet talking her and stealing kisses and crumbs from her lips until she swatted him away with red cheeks. She was so darling, shy and sweet, and melted when he held her. And, _mon dieu_, he was ashamed to say he almost started drooling when he heard her speak in French. Matilda, _he loved saying her name_, was his treasure...he never felt this way towards any other woman he'd attempted to stay with. It was new, but so indescribably familiar. It was _affection_...

He knew immediately—he knew that he was falling in love. A stumble was all it took, but Francis Bonnefoi was in love with the girl named Matilda...and it never felt better.

_I finished this very...very late at night. I'm so sorry I couldn't update sooner, my pretties! This has also not been proof read, but I just want to get this update out. Sorry if it seems a little bit rushed!_

_**(EDIT : For all viewers who faithfully stood by this story, I thank you...for new readers and the like, I'm sad to say that this chapter has now been changed to the finale. All votes are closed due to the stories conclusion. I hate ending projects, but I feel nothing more could be done for this story, and I've effectively lost my muse. As for upcoming stories that don't contain any atrocities like this and its grammar butchering, please refer to my profile. If you have any questions, feel free to message me! Thank you for reading and staying with this project until the end—without you all, it would have ended longer ago. Stick around, keep reading, and remain awesome, as always.**_

_**Much love,**_

_**Dao)**_


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